


Is This Love?

by MuddyInk



Series: Checkmate [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: First Kiss, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Instability, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior, Past Rape/Non-con, Pedophilia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Yaoi, creek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 05:17:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20483495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuddyInk/pseuds/MuddyInk
Summary: It's okay, I hate me too.!!!No non-con between Craig and Tweek everything between them is totally consenual!!!





	1. I see you

**Author's Note:**

> I love Creek honestly but I just wanted to write something dark. I'll probably write more like this soon too.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This might be a little confusing but this is told from the perspective of Tweek either recording his voice or telling police or someone about it

Have you.. ever been in love? Love that’s so strong it feels like a punch when you realize what it is? Have you ever been hurt? A hurt that tears like daggers through your chest until you can't breathe and you’re sobbing on the floor? Because I have. Let me tell you my story.

My daddy touched me. He made me cry when he did, hurting me over and over, endlessly for years. Momma hit me. Never where anyone would see though. It hurt so much. You think parents are supposed to love their children. Take care of them. My parents never loved me. Momma told me I was never something they wanted but they didn’t want to go to hell. Momma said I ruined her so daddy wouldn’t touch her and that’s why daddy touched me. He took me into the store room. Tied me to the table and cut me all over. Those cuts always got infected. It always hurt and I thought there was nothing for me in the world. But then I met.. him.

I met him when we were nine. It was such a strange thing then, meeting him. The truth was I noticed him. I noticed him long before we ever met. You could say I was obsessed. In love? No. He was a quiet boy, never straying outside his small group of friends. I noticed his clothes. He always wore the same thing did you know? He loved the color blue. He told me his grandma made him that hat. I noticed his face. That damned face. He never smiled, never frowned really either. His face was always a perfect neutral. I wonder if he was always so empty. His eyes were blue too. A really pretty shade of blue. Like the ocean with little flecks of gold. His hair a pretty ebony. It was soft, like a kittens fur. I only touched it once..

Their friend died. I felt bad for them but they made me their new friend. It was so weird actually being included.. no one really liked me. I don’t blame them honestly. I let myself be pulled into their games, let myself be tormented by them. I let them plant lies in my head. Sick lies, lies no one should tell anyone at that age. We were unstable, both dealing with out issues at home. Those boys gave us a way to let our anger out. Too bad it was on each other. I can't remember who threw the first punch. I can't remember being sent away. I can’t remember being ‘fixed’ or my heart stopping. I remember waking up with him next to me. Equally as broken and bandaged. A doctor came in, told me I was addicted to meth. I remember the shock on his face. Being told social workers would come in shortly. We bonded then. That was when it happened. That obsession became just a little bit more. A little more pure. Maybe a little more dangerous. I never told them what momma and daddy really did to me.

They sent me away after that, to live with another family. They were nice enough. I stayed in South Park though. We became friends. He told me about his home life then, his father being an alcoholic beating him, his mother ignoring him completely after being attacked by her husband for defending him. His sister blaming everything on him. He let me in, and with that came an invitation to his circle. That boy, Kenny, had come back anyway. We were together all the time after that. Best friends you might say. Always at my house or Tokens Basement playing superheroes or some video game. 

A perfect year went by before the next problem came up. Those Asian girls started shipping us together. Called us cute, gave us a stupid name.. Creek or something. He.. didn’t like that. He would tear the pictures down. Scream about his father finding out. The bruises got worse. Finger prints on his throat, around his wrists. Sometimes black eyes. He became colder, distant. Those girls wouldn’t stop though, if anything it gave them a thrill seeing him so broken. Drew me taking care of him. They didn’t know they were making it worse. He stopped talking to me for months. I was evicted from the group. Everyone went back to ignoring me minus the shippers. They drew us as broken up despite us never dating.

A few years passed. His beatings never stopped. He still came with fresh bruises every day. Sometimes his lip would be bleeding. It hurt. He was hurting because I existed, and it felt like that was all I was good for. I thought maybe if I disappeared he would be safe from everyone. I cant remember much of that day. I remember stealing some medicine from the nurses office. I remember stealing a knife from Heidi's locker. Going home and just sitting in the bathroom. I twisted the knife in one hand, the pills in the other. I remember filling the tub. Climbing in. The water felt cold when I knew it was hot. I took the whole bottle. I slit my wrists. I waited.. and waited.. The door opened. My mother was there. She told me later she had been knocking for a while and got worried. I should have locked the door. 

She was screaming and holding me. Pulling me out of the water but I couldn’t feel it. I didn’t know why she was screaming. I just wanted her to be quiet. My father came in and helped. The noise became quiet like it was behind a wall of glass. I was downstairs then. They were pulling me outside, people I didn’t know. Other people standing in the street and in their yard, taking pictures and pointing. I heard a child crying somewhere. Maybe that was me I cant remember. I looked up and he was there though. Watching me. His face wasn’t blank anymore. He was crying. Never in my life had I seen Craig Tucker cry. 

They took me away then. He tried to follow me but someone grabbed him. I only saw his red hair. I don’t care much about me, but that stay was awful. I was there for weeks “healing". When I finally got to go back to school I was on so many medications I couldn’t feel anything. I just wanted to sleep. People whispered things, all the time. Speculations and theories. Why I did it. They said it was because of a girl then it was who that girl was. There was never a girl. Craig though.. Craig never whispered. He yelled. Told them that it wasn’t their business. I loved him so much then. It took him a while to come talk to me. He finally did. Apologized for leaving me. It wasn’t his fault. It was mine. I told him such. He cried when I said that. He told me to never blame myself for him being afraid. He told me he was afraid of those pictures not just because of his father, but because they might have been true. He was scared of what that meant. Everyone would hate him. I didn’t say a word. I wish I had.

We hung out again after that. Things were tense but good. I was happy again. Another year went like that, and now we were sixteen smoking weed in Token's basement. Token threw a party that night, we got a little too drunk. My first real kiss was in Token's basement surrounded by faces I couldn’t remember. I was dizzy, I couldn’t move right but I knew I was with Craig. That was enough for me. We didn’t have sex, I’m glad for that. I wanted to be able to remember it clearly. For there to only be us two. Someone took a picture though. We didn’t know until the next Monday. Craig said he didn’t care but I saw. Those hairline fractures were appearing all over his façade. 

We became a couple after that. It was low key but it’s what we were. He kissed me again one night. Took off my shirt. We went to my room and I thread my fingers into his soft hair. The first and last time I would touch it. It was when he pushed me down it happened. I panicked. I kicked at him and began to beg. Begging “Daddy” not to hurt me anymore. He got off immediately and talked me through my hyperventilating. He convinced me to see someone, so I did. The lady talked to me. She told me I should try confronting my father. I did. 

It took me a while. I wrote out a whole letter.. “Dear Richard" and all that.. I went to the prison. He agreed to see me. Sitting face to face I cleared my throat to begin but it constricted. He called me pathetic and weak. He told me all the things I was lacking and how I wasn’t even a good lay. He told me he had been planning on killing me with the meth. My mother never wanted me. Somehow these things I had heard before hurt worse than they had ever. A few tears slid down my face. He spit at me, being pulled away by guards. “we hate you. You would be better off dead" he snarled as he was finally pulled out of the room. I got up and quickly left. I walked to the bridge. Standing at the top looking down at the inky water. I inched forward. 

It’s okay Dad. I hate me too.


	2. I win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can never go back, but neither can I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This probably isn't what anyone expected when I created this but here's the final part of this. 
> 
> I WILL be creating a second part (see bottom notes to note find spoilers)

Hey again, back where we left off yes? Where were we.. oh that’s right. The bridge. 

I inched towards the edge of the bridge. I knew what it meant, I knew this might break Craig. I knew he would get over it. I don’t know why I let that mans words get to me. I shouldn’t have cared anymore. I thought I didn’t care. Let me tell you though, I felt dirty. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much. I would never be pure again. Not that I was ever truly poor. I was a child made from hate, raised by hate and pain. I was never meant to be. 

There were voices in my head, arguing over what I was doing. Conflicting and creating so much noise I was pulling my hair out in clumps. I hated that. I’d heard these voices before. Begging, convincing me to kill myself or others. I never listened. The road was mostly empty. A few cars passed me, no one stopped. I suppose this is where you expect a cliché like Craig swooped in and saved me before I fell. This isn't one of those stories. I fell, you see. I fell and I sunk. I breathed in water and coughed but I didn’t fight it. This was what I wanted. I simply felt empty. 

Someone called the police. One of the cars driving by. They didn’t tell them I was a suicidal kid, they said a tweaker was freaking out on the bridge and might fall off. The police came, no paramedics. They came with their guns drawn in case I attacked. They thought I had left until one of them spotted something floating in the water. They came to look and sure enough there I was, face down and lifeless. They pulled me out then, stupid shits. Called the paramedics and tried to revive me. Dumb fucks couldn’t even save me right. I was technically dead for 3 minutes. I can't tell you what I saw when I died, but there was no light at the end of the tunnel. It was just cold and lonely. 

They gave me a psych consult once I was stable. I lied my way out of being sent off again. I told them I was having a panic attack about seeing my dad again and fell in. They believed me. People in this town will believe anything you tell them. Craig came to see me. He knew it wasn’t an accident. I told him the truth, everything my dad said and did. How I jumped in. He cried for me again, kissed me gently and told me he couldn’t take this anymore. He said he couldn’t handle how destructive I was. He said he knew I heard things, saw things. He said he thought I might be dangerous to be around until I was stable. I just stared blankly at the wall. He begged me to look at him so I did. He asked me if I would get help. Help, Craig? I had said. You’re just as empty as I am. He got this look on his face. Hurt, confusion, understanding. He left after that. I didn’t see him again.

I went home not a week later, healed and no longer sick from the cold dirty water. My “parents" fussed over me constantly making sure I had everything I could possibly want. They switched my therapist, threatened to sue the old one when she tried to tell them something was seriously wrong with me. They should have listened to her. 

I didn’t go back to school unless I wanted to. Only ended up going a couple times a week. The principle knew what was going on with me so he let it slide. No one ever came looking for me. When I did go back everyone went to avoiding me, but it was different this time. They seemed almost afraid to talk to me. I didn’t know why but it worked for me. Never cared for people anyway. I kept my eye out for Craig though. Never saw him. I just assumed he was dealing with what I told him. Dealing with our breakup. 

That was until I saw the news. It was an accident, me seeing. My “mother" never let me watch the news. Said I acted strange when tragedies showed up. I had come home early, she thought I was still at school. It made me feel weird, the headliner. 

Craig Tucker Officially Missing 

My breath caught in my throat then. I wondered if his father had done this or if he simply ran away. The reporters and police said they were doing everything to find out what happened to him. Including looking at every person he had been close too or might have a problem with him. This of course, would include me. We broke up just before he disappeared, witnesses saw him leave disturbed and crying. I would be the number one suspect. That’s what you would think anyway. No one ever questioned me. 

I snuck out of the house. I found Craig's. He never let me go there because of his family but I knew the general area it was in. I knew it had to be his father. I snuck around the house into his backyard. I peered in through the windows. I saw his father, sitting at the table drinking. Typical. I scoffed a little to myself. 

I don’t think I should go into any of the graphics of what happened but his father told me everything. Craig had come home that night crying, a clear sign of weakness. His father in a drunken rage had grabbed him, thrown him into a wall. Craig had hit his head on a corner a little too hard. He was unconscious but his stupid drunk father panicked and thought he was dead. He had pulled him down into the basement and stuffed him into a safe just big enough for a person. He then waited and called the police. He couldn’t hear the screaming and pounding below his feet. He couldn’t hear when the pounding stopped. 

I made him take me down there. I made him open the safe and show me my beloved Craig. He saw what he had done. Sobering up maybe the first time since his children were born. He saw the claw marks on the inside of the safe, Craig’s broken bloody fingers missing nails or having been broken off from the clawing. He saw the still wet blood, and he broke. 

I tried to fight what I knew I had inside me. That darkness that makes me want to hurt people. Break people. Craig was the only one who ever made me feel truly alive, but now Craig was gone. If I had been just a little quicker I could have saved him. My darling Craig died because of my failure. So yes you could say I took great pleasure in seeing his scum father break. I knew that no matter what I or anyone did he would never be able to take back what he had done. He would never be able to fix his mind, or his heart. He would have to deal with the mental pain for the rest of his life, then deal with the torture in hell. 

I left him there on that cold basement floor. I laughed after I called the police. My laughter increasing to the sort of laugh only a truly insane person could pull off. I could never go back, but neither could he. Neither could anyone. I played my role in your sick game and I won. I lost my queen and I still won. I outlived every single person who had ever wronged us. I killed the people who took too long or continued to hurt innocent people. You sit down here watching over the chaos you created, watching the people you called friends fall apart. You waited and watched until I met my demise then you bring me here for what? To play another game? 

God? No I don’t think I am. If I were a God I wouldn’t have taken it into my own hands like he doesn’t. No.. it was more than revenge. More than me playing God. It’s unfortunate I had to die so soon.. I was only a teenager after all. You had some part to play in that yes? You also didn’t want me dead yet though, since you allowed me to carry on for so long. Your father planted me into the world in a very bad life. Fed the pain and fear that would create a monster. You continued that. What would your father think if he knew you killed his prized piece just to play a game I wonder. 

I have to tell you though, Damien. I never planned on being trapped down here. That’s why I agreed to play your game of chess. You were so certain you could beat me simply because no one has ever beaten you before? You really should pay more attention to the game in front of you. 

Checkmate, friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Game Damien and Tweek played was a game for Tweek to be brought back to life but as a part imp. 
> 
> Tweek wanted the ability to continue his killing spree to create a "pure" world. Craig was sent to heaven after being accidentally murdered by his father. 
> 
> I haven't decided if Craig will be brought back in the next part, let me know if that's something you want.


End file.
